


you're under my skin

by brightlight



Series: i'm so into you [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, University AU, a little angsty because crushing on your best friend is a little angsty, alcohol/partying, dumb boys who are bad at feelings, minor discussion of anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 21:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7190705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightlight/pseuds/brightlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been a week since Soonyoung last woke up in Jihoon’s bed, and the few days that followed were full of cautious distance, just like the first few days after always are. They’ve been doing this long enough, often enough, that sometimes in these slightly awkward weeks, Soonyoung forgets how good it is to be with Jihoon. He’s glad to be sitting across from him as friends, as...whatever it is they are to each other. (And that’s a fear of both of theirs, he thinks: naming that vague, broad <i>whatever</i>. Things become real when you give them a name.)</p><p>++</p><p>(Soonyoung and Jihoon didn't mean to keep hooking up, but there must be a reason it keeps happening.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're under my skin

**Author's Note:**

> hello !! once again this is certainly...longer than i intended..... 
> 
> this is a continuation of a (meanie) fic in the same verse, but reading the first part of this series probably isn't strictly necessary (it might answer some questions about roommates and friendships tho idk.) 
> 
> this is less of an ensemble fic and more just plain ol' soonhoon (the jihancheol and meanie are background.) once again there are a few female idol cameos because girl groups are my number 1 lol. enjoy!
> 
> (title from "BWU" by tegan & sara)

Jihoon wakes up with a pounding headache and all sixty-five kilograms of Kwon Soonyoung piled on top of him messily. Also, naked. Shit. 

He sighs to himself, wanting to rub the sleep from his eyes, but his arm is pinned under Soonyoung’s body, and his other arm is asleep. It all just keeps getting better. He rolls Soonyoung off of him and onto his own separate side of Jihoon’s bed, a concept that apparently Soonyoung will never grasp, and rolls onto his own stomach, burying his face in his pillow and groaning. 

Soonyoung stirs beside him and mutters his own expletives. 

“What did I fucking drink last night? Poison?” Soonyoung groans, pulling Jihoon’s blanket over his head. Jihoon cracks a smile despite himself, despite his annoyance at the situation. 

“I wish I drank poison. At least then I’d be dead now,” Jihoon turns to his side to mutter. 

“Can I use your shower?” Soonyoung asks him, coming out from under the blanket and instead shielding his eyes with his hand to avoid the sunlight streaming through Jihoon’s open curtains. 

“Yeah. Just don’t puke in it,” Jihoon sighs. Soonyoung gives him a salute before trudging out of the bed and down the hall toward the bathroom. Jihoon knows he’s naked but doesn’t look, buries his face back in his pillow instead. Shit. 

This wasn’t supposed to ever keep happening. The first time, six months ago, was a mistake; they were both beyond wasted and lonely and they ended up kissing and jerking each other off on Jihoon’s couch, the blurry memory lodged firmly into Jihoon’s brain. The next morning they could barely look at each other, and they mutually declared it a mistake. Except, then it happened again a few weeks later, and a couple weeks after that they ended up fucking for real. And now it’s...now. Soonyoung’s clothes are on his floor and his cum is almost definitely on Jihoon’s sheets, and Jihoon doesn’t know what to do except bury his face in his pillow and groan again. 

Eventually, when he stops feeling so sorry for himself, he pulls himself out of bed and gets dressed. He kicks all of Soonyoung’s discarded clothes into a pile, hating the fact that he recognizes the pair of boxers Soonyoung must have been wearing the night before, and pulls on his own worn joggers and a t-shirt. 

Jihoon decides to do what he usually does in times of minor personal crisis and makes coffee. It gives his hands something to do, a familiar routine, and he likes the smell.

He stands in his kitchen, tapping at his countertops as he waits for the water to boil and turning his neck to crack the bones. Ignoring the admonishing voice in his head that sounds obnoxiously like Soonyoung, Jihoon reaches to the top of his fridge where he keeps a pack of cigarettes (he keeps another one in his nightstand and in the pocket of whatever jacket he’s wearing; he likes to be prepared) and taps one out into his hand, lighting it on the range of the stove. 

“God, that smells like shit,” Soonyoung says from the hallway, wrapped in Jihoon’s towel with his dark hair dripping onto the wood of the floor. “And you look like shit, too.” 

“You always say the nicest things,” Jihoon deadpans, blowing smoke out of his mouth as he speaks.

“I speak only the truth, Jihoonie,” Soonyoung says with a smirk before walking off toward Jihoon’s bedroom. 

Jihoon doesn’t stop himself from staring at the muscles in Soonyoung’s back as he walks, but he forces his eyes closed after a moment of indulgence, gritting his teeth. He hates this. Every bit of it. He hates the way they try to be coy around each other the morning after, he hates that he always smokes more cigarettes all day, he hates having more thoughts to avoid, and he hates that the lines between best friends and...whatever, whatever relationship marker sums this nonsense up, are blurred before Soonyoung leaves his apartment wearing his clothes from the night before. It’s all a nuisance. 

The electric kettle whistles and Jihoon is shaken from his spiraling thought process. He pours two mugs because even though he hates Kwon Soonyoung’s stupid smirks, stupid _Jihoonie_ , Jihoon’s not an asshole. He holds his cigarette between his lips as he pours carefully, leaving a packet of instant coffee next to Soonyoung’s mug.

“Thanks,” a voice says from the doorway, and Jihoon glances over to find Soonyoung fully dressed in last night’s party attire, down to the socks that have Bart Simpson’s face all over them. 

“No problem,” Jihoon says back with half a grin. Liar. Big problem, lots of problems. 

Soonyoung tosses Jihoon an orange pill bottle, and Jihoon nods. “Thanks.” 

He doesn’t like being taken care of, but he’s stopped fighting Soonyoung’s attempts. He doesn’t really trust anyone else to even know about his prescription anxiety meds, let alone remind him to take them. 

“What’re you up to today?” Soonyoung asks him conversationally, stirring his coffee as Jihoon shakes out two pills and sets them next to his mug. 

Jihoon ashes his cigarette into the sink and thinks it over. “I have a paper on theory to write, and I wanted to go by the studio to watch Bumzu work a little.” 

“ _Super_ exciting,” Soonyoung says sarcastically, but his grin is sincere. 

“You know me,” Jihoon mutters. 

“I do,” Soonyoung says back. 

Jihoon stirs instant coffee into his mug, looking down at the whirlpool his spoon creates as asks, “What about you?” 

“Here’s my plan,” Soonyoung starts, but Jihoon interrupts him with a snort.

“You have a plan?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Here’s my plan,” Soonyoung repeats more forcefully.

“It’s a Saturday. What do you need a plan for?”

“ _Here’s my plan_ ,” Soonyoung says with a glare. “I’m gonna go to the convenience store and spend a stupid amount of money on garbage.” He holds up a one on his fingers. “Then, I’ll go to the studio and ask my boss if I can help with the new choreography.” He adds a finger. “She will tell me no, and I’ll feel sorry for myself.” Three. “Then I’ll finish out the day at Seokmin’s, where he will beat me at video games and tell me who he was trying to hit on last night because I heard there was a girl.” 

“Great plan,” Jihoon responds with a sarcastic smile. 

Soonyoung gives a thumbs-up before turning to rifle through Jihoon’s cabinets, emerging with a granola bar that Jihoon didn’t even know was in there. “Thanks, I enumerated it in the shower.” 

“Big word,” Jihoon comments. “Very impressive, Soonyoung.” 

“You know how I long to impress you,” Soonyoung says with a grin, taking a large bite of the granola bar in his hand. 

Jihoon rolls his eyes with a smirk.

Soonyoung pushes his wet hair off his forehead and glances in the mirror in Jihoon’s hallway. “Does my hair look better up or down?”

“Up,” Jihoon answers automatically, not even having to consider.

“Hm,” Soonyoung mutters, still messing around with his hair. 

It feels sickeningly domestic, and Jihoon grits his teeth, holding back his sigh. A nuisance — this whole thing is a nuisance. He puts out his spent cigarette and stares down at it, opening and closing his mouth before finally speaking. “No offense, Soonyoung, but I need to get some work done.”

Soonyoung turns away from his own reflection, and Jihoon can feel him looking across the kitchen at him. “Oh. None taken. I’ll head out.”

“Talk to you later, okay?” Jihoon says with a glance up at Soonyoung. It sounds apologetic because maybe it is. Maybe he’s sorry for a lot of things. Soonyoung doesn’t look upset but Jihoon can’t trust that, because Soonyoung rarely looks upset, even when he has every right to be. 

“Yeah,” Soonyoung says back with a smile, a softer version of his usual 100-watt grin. 

The moment’s heavy, and if Soonyoung and Jihoon were in a slightly different situation, this would be where they kissed goodbye. But they’re not in that situation, and Jihoon is annoyed that his brain stumbled onto the desire. Instead of a kiss goodbye, Soonyoung slips on his shoes by Jihoon’s front door and gives a wave, and Jihoon waves back. 

The door closes behind Soonyoung and Jihoon sighs long enough that it turns into a groan. 

_everything is so fucking annoying_ , he messages Seungcheol, because he wants to. It’s predictable of him, to an extent where Seungcheol might even expect the message, but he doesn’t care. 

_do u wanna talk about it??_ , Seungcheol sends back a few minutes later as Jihoon lights his second cigarette of the day, moving to sit on his too-big couch. 

_no_ , Jihoon sends back quickly. 

Seungcheol sends him a sticker of a cartoon dog giving a mini-heart, and Jihoon snorts out a laugh. 

The quiet of Jihoon’s apartment is loud around him; not for the first time, he wishes he didn’t live alone. It’s nice, most of the time, especially since Jihoon is a fairly introverted and quiet person, but it’s times like this that it drives him insane. He sighs again, and decides if he’s going to get any work done, he needs to leave the house. 

He sighs _again_ as he packs up his things into a backpack, because he realizes he left his laptop at Seungcheol’s apartment the day before. Now he’ll have to make an extra stop. He’s too lazy to call; he has Seungcheol’s spare key anyway, if he’s not there. 

It’s ten minutes and one subway stop later when he knocks at Seungcheol’s door lazily. Thinking back, he doesn’t actually know what became of Seungcheol at the party the night before; maybe he’s a bad friend for sending Seungcheol vague complaints about his own life instead of asking. 

It’s in the middle of this absentminded musing when Yoon Jeonghan opens the door of Seungcheol’s apartment, and Jihoon lets out a surprised laugh. 

“Hi,” he offers, still laughing a little, “Uh, sorry. I’m Seungcheol’s friend, I just need to grab something.” 

“You’re Jihoon, right?” Jeonghan asks, still standing in the doorway in what is definitely one of Seungcheol’s shirts. 

“I am,” Jihoon responds, a grin still on his face. It’s partially out of surprise, but he’s also impressed that Seungcheol finally managed to actually do it; he’s had a crush on Jeonghan for _ages_ , and it’s always been a little pathetic. Like, whine to Jihoon that he misses Jeonghan’s hair after he gets a haircut pathetic. Thing was, Jihoon didn’t say this to Seungcheol much (there was no reason to deflate his already low hopes), but he always figured Jeonghan was dating Jisoo, a boy that was in a couple of Jihoon’s music theory classes. 

“Who was it?” Seungcheol’s voice calls from inside the apartment, and Jeonghan walks in to let Jihoon do the same.

“Oh,” Seungcheol says at the sight of Jihoon, looking a little like he was caught stealing. He’s standing in the kitchen, frying something on the stovetop.

Jihoon gives a happy little wave. “I left my laptop here yesterday.” 

“You could have sent a message,” Seungcheol mutters, rolling his eyes.

Jihoon shrugs. “Sorry, I didn’t think.” _I didn’t think you would have gone home with anyone,_ is the real end of that sentence, but Jihoon omits it for Jeonghan’s sake. 

“It’s over there,” Seungcheol points to his living room, turning back to whatever food he’s cooking. Jeonghan stands near him, watching him cook, and they have a quiet conversation that Jihoon can’t hear. He doesn’t focus on it though, just mentally congratulating Seungcheol before he walks over and glances through Seungcheol’s living room.

“Where? I don’t —” Jihoon starts, but the sound of another set of footsteps quiets him. He looks over to find Hong Jisoo wearing nothing but a pair of boxer-briefs, and he feels himself blush.

Jisoo looks as mortified as he does, but he’s frozen still in Seungcheol’s hallway. Seungcheol sighs. 

“It’s on the table,” he mutters weakly as Jihoon and Jisoo continue to stare at each other. He glances between them, looking pained. “Jisoo, you know Jihoon.” 

“Yep,” Jisoo says quietly, sounding startled. “Yes I do. We worked on a group project together last month, right?” 

“You were really good at picking fonts for the presentation,” Jihoon mutters. There’s another beat of awkward silence.

“I’m gonna go get dressed,” Jisoo declares.

“Nice seeing you,” Jihoon responds, face blank, mind blank. He turns to the aforementioned table, where his laptop is sitting underneath a few papers, and grabs it. 

Seungcheol’s face is in his hands, Jeonghan absentmindedly stirring whatever’s in the frying pan in Seungcheol’s stead, and he looks up at Jihoon with a blush on his face. “Call first next time.”

“That is certainly a lesson I have learned,” Jihoon responds with a brisk nod. 

Jeonghan laughs from his place in front of the stove, looking very unconcerned with the situation.

“I’m gonna go to the library now,” Jihoon says, shoving his laptop into his backpack. “We will talk later.”

“I’m sure we will,” Seungcheol says with a sigh. The absurdity of the situation makes Jihoon laugh again, and he hears Jeonghan laugh too as he walks out of the apartment. 

Jihoon lets the door close behind him and thinks, deliriously, it’s lucky that Seungcheol has a big bed.

++

Jihoon is on page ten of his paper, and it’s nearly nine o’clock at night. He did two other assignments while he was in the library, and he hasn’t eaten since...at all. Whoops. But he doesn’t waste time thinking about this, instead focusing on rifling through his notes to find a quote from his professor. He pauses to rub at his bleary eyes, and when he opens them, there’s a cup of coffee sitting on top of his notes, with Soonyoung’s hand attached.

“I figured you were here,” Soonyoung says with a satisfied grin. The library’s empty, because it’s a Saturday night, but his voice is still quiet anyway. “Your phone was off.” 

“Oh,” Jihoon mutters, hand reaching toward the coffee. “Yeah. I know.” 

Soonyoung pulls up the seat next to him without hesitation. “How’s your paper going?”

This is, funnily enough, how they met three years ago. Jihoon sitting in the same spot in the same library (his favorite spot in his favorite library) and Soonyoung passing him a cup of coffee with a wide grin as Jihoon glared incredulously, wondering who the fuck this kid was. Soonyoung is more sentimental than he lets on, and sometimes Jihoon thinks the ritual, finding him in the library and bringing him the coffee, is important to Soonyoung. So he never says anything about it, never teases him. Besides, he does appreciate the coffee. 

“Fine,” Jihoon responds with a sigh. 

“You never went to the studio, did you?” Soonyoung asks. Jihoon turns to find Soonyoung frowning at him, concerned. 

“No.” 

“And you haven’t eaten.” 

“No.”

Soonyoung sighs, but doesn’t say anything else, instead just watching Jihoon work. It says something about their friendship that Jihoon can tune him out, doesn’t mind Soonyoung’s careful eyes on him the way he minds everyone else’s. 

Jihoon takes a sip of his coffee and turns to Soonyoung. “I forgot to tell you. You won’t believe who Seungcheol went home with last night.

“Who?” Soonyoung scoots forward eagerly, looking giddy. Jihoon doesn’t have a reputation for gossipping, mostly because Seokmin and Soonyoung eliminate the need for Jihoon to participate actively, but some things are worth it. 

“Jeonghan,” Jihoon starts, making Soonyoung laugh in surprise, but Jihoon holds a hand up to continue. “And Hong Jisoo.”

Soonyoung’s jaw drops, and Jihoon nods, giving him a moment to process. “... _Both_ of them?”

Jihoon nods again solemnly. Soonyoung gives a low whistle. 

“I wanna know the mechanics of that,” Soonyoung mutters.

Jihoon snorts. “Of course you do.” 

“Do you think it’s just a sex thing?” Soonyoung asks curiously, leaning his elbow on the table in front of him and resting his hand on his chin.

“Don’t know. He was making them breakfast this morning,” Jihoon shrugs. “And Seungcheol’s not really a ‘just a sex thing’ kind of guy.” 

In fact, Seungcheol is usually just the opposite, almost always dating someone and taking it very seriously. It’s been six months since he broke up with his last girlfriend, and he spent most of those six months mooning over Yoon Jeonghan. Soonyoung nods in agreement, looking impressed.

“Well, if anyone could date two boys, it’s Seungcheol.”

Jihoon laughs softly. “True. It’s like the romantic olympics, and he’s been training for it his whole life.” 

It’s quiet again, Jihoon turning back to his paper as he takes another sip of coffee. 

“You wrote ten pages today, right? I think you can afford to call it a night,” Soonyoung says quietly from beside him. 

Jihoon blinks tiredly, letting his eyes stay closed for a minute. “Maybe. I want to finish, though.” 

Soonyoung hums, like he’s thinking. “I know you were here to avoid me.” 

Jihoon sighs, his eyes still closed. “You don’t know anything, Soonyoung.” 

“You are such an asshole,” Soonyoung says with a laugh, but he doesn’t sound very amused. His hand rests on top of Jihoon’s anyway, fingers stroking Jihoon’s smaller hand softly, and Jihoon opens his eyes to look down at the sight of it with a frown. 

“Come on, come back to mine. Wonwoo’s bringing home fried chicken for dinner and I think we’re gonna watch a movie.” It’s an innocuous offer, but the softness in Soonyoung’s voice bristles against something in Jihoon, and he pulls his hand out from under Soonyoung’s. 

He doesn’t know where it comes from, but before he can stop himself, Jihoon spits out quietly, “I’m not your fucking boyfriend.” 

Soonyoung sighs, sounding more annoyed than sad. “No, you’re my friend, Jihoon.” 

“Is this what friends do?” Jihoon asks, turning to face him. The air between them goes quiet. It’s a loaded question, and Jihoon regrets asking it almost immediately, seeing the way Soonyoung’s expression gets tired, weighed down. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Soonyoung says quietly, eyes cast downward. Jihoon wants to put his hand on top of Soonyoung’s, re-initiate their point of contact, but it feels too intimate, so he stays still. 

“Let’s not do this in a library,” Soonyoung says with a laugh, pulling one of his knees up to his chest.

“Let’s not do it at all,” Jihoon says back. 

They’re quiet for a moment before Soonyoung turns to him and says, “Come on, let me give you a ride home.” 

Jihoon nods, packing his things back up in his backpack and following Soonyoung out to the small parking lot behind the library, where Wonwoo’s car is parked haphazardly, taking up part of a second spot. 

“This thing is truly a piece of shit,” Jihoon says as Soonyoung goes about the process of starting it, twisting the key a few times in the ignition before the engine comes to life.

“You’re telling me,” Soonyoung mutters as he backs out of his bad parking job and drives in the direction of Jihoon’s apartment.

The drive is quiet, neither of them moving to turn on the radio, and when Soonyoung pulls up in front of Jihoon’s building, neither of them move or say anything. 

“Are we okay?” Soonyoung asks finally, turning to look at Jihoon. Jihoon likes him like this, soft and honest with all of his bravado tucked away. 

“Yeah. We’re good,” Jihoon says with a nod, giving him something almost like a smile. 

There’s more he wants to say, and he can see hesitation on Soonyoung’s face too, but instead of either of them voicing the thoughts they’re both wrestling, Jihoon reaches out and puts his hand on top of Soonyoung’s on the steering wheel, squeezing it assuringly. 

Soonyoung smiles at him and it makes him feel warm, comfortable. It’s a nice feeling, and part of him doesn’t want to leave, to go up to his empty apartment. They say goodnight and Jihoon waves goodbye before stepping inside his building and climbing up the stairs, running a hand through his hair as he makes his way to the fourth floor. 

His apartment is dark and quiet, like it is usually, and Jihoon isn’t sure if he’s comforted by it or put off by it tonight. He flicks a light on, walking into his kitchen and boiling water for a dinner of instant ramyeon. It’s a few hours later when he’s sitting in front of his TV in sweatpants and stumbles on an older movie playing, one that and Soonyoung watched together once. He doesn’t think much before he calls Soonyoung, trying not to second-guess himself, and Soonyoung picks up on the third ring.

“Guess what’s playing on TV,” Jihoon says without introduction.

“I know,” Soonyoung says back quietly with a laugh. “I’m watching too.” 

They’re quiet, both watching the movie, and Soonyoung mutters, “I can’t believe they don’t end up together.”

“Well, she stays with her husband,” Jihoon reasons. 

“Yeah, but she’s _obviously_ more in love with him,” Soonyoung says. “They have chemistry. She and her husband have no chemistry.” 

“They used to, right? Maybe she just wants them to be like that again, and she doesn’t wanna throw it away.” 

It’s a familiar discussion; they’ve had it before, about the same movie, about different movies. 

There’s only half an hour of the movie left, and Jihoon and Soonyoung stay on the phone as it plays, muttering comments to each other. 

“Such a shame,” Soonyoung sighs as the last scene plays, the female lead shown walking down the sidewalk with her husband as her jilted lover sits outside a cafe, looking after her longingly. “I wish there was another ending where they end up together and he punches her husband in the face for being so boring.” 

Jihoon laughs easily as the credits roll, turning off his TV and walking into his bedroom. 

“Damn, it’s late, isn’t it?” Soonyoung asks, and Jihoon glances at his alarm clock. Just after midnight.

“Maybe for you, old man,” Jihoon teases. He is tired, though, despite the joke.

“I’m four months older than you,” Soonyoung says, annoyed. 

“Hey, you know that waiter at Seungcheol’s bar, the tall one?” Soonyoung asks suddenly, and Jihoon nods before remembering that Soonyoung can’t see him.

“Mm?” Jihoon mutters, climbing into his bed. 

“He slept over with Wonwoo last night,” Soonyoung says with a laugh. 

They continue to chatter about their friends, catching each other up on mutual acquaintances, until the conversation lulls, Jihoon’s eyes drooping heavily. 

“You going to sleep?” Soonyoung asks softly.

“Yeah,” Jihoon mumbles, phone pressed between his pillow and his ear. 

“I should go, then,” Soonyoung says, sounding thoughtful. 

“Is it weird if I ask you not to?” Jihoon asks quietly. 

There’s a pause, the static sound of breathing crackling over the line. “No, it’s not weird.” 

Jihoon doesn’t bother explaining himself, can’t put into words the fact that he’d rather hear Soonyoung breathing and muttering to himself on the other end of the phone than suffocate in the silence of his empty bedroom, fixate on the sounds of water dripping from faucets and clocks ticking. 

Jihoon falls asleep to the sound of Soonyoung’s lilting voice, telling a story that Jihoon can’t keep up with, and he sleeps better than he has in at least a week.

**++ ++ ++**

Soonyoung waits outside of Jihoon’s apartment, feeling nervous. There are eight hours before the surprise party he planned, and he has to fill them enough that Jihoon doesn’t expect it. He never realized before how _stressful_ surprise party planning is, and he hopes he never has to do it again.

Jihoon opens his door and looks unimpressed with Soonyoung’s presence. “Happy birthday eve!” Soonyoung yells excitedly, throwing his arms in the air. Jihoon continues to look him over, nonplussed.

“That’s not a real thing,” Jihoon says, retreating back into his apartment but leaving the door open as an invitation for Soonyoung. 

“It is now,” Soonyoung says with a grin. 

It’s nearly one in the afternoon but Jihoon’s in track pants and an oversized t-shirt, his hair rumpled from sleep. “Did you just wake up?” Soonyoung asks, amused.

“Yeah, maybe,” Jihoon mutters, sitting down at his kitchen table and returning to a half-eaten bowl of cereal. 

Jihoon is always grumpy after he wakes up, glaring at everyone and everything around him until he’s had coffee, so Soonyoung walks over and puts water in his kettle, grabbing a pack of instant coffee from the cupboard. 

“Thanks,” Jihoon calls from the table.

“Anything for the birthday boy,” Soonyoung says brightly. 

Jihoon laughs, still sounding tired. “You care more about birthdays than anyone else over the age of ten.” 

Maybe it’s true, but Soonyoung doesn’t care much. He likes birthdays. He likes celebrating people. He likes Jihoon, too, so he likes celebrating him more than he likes celebrating most other people. 

“What are we doing today, anyway?” Jihoon asks him, eating his cereal. Soonyoung waits patiently, throwing himself over Jihoon’s couch. 

Soonyoung shrugs at Jihoon with a grin. “Dunno. Whatever you want.” His genius plan to get Jihoon away from everyone all day was to tell him that he was busy tomorrow, Jihoon’s actual birthday, and he wanted to take Jihoon out. It’s maybe more effort than was strictly required, since on his own, Jihoon probably wouldn’t have left the house, but Soonyoung went to a good amount of trouble planning a surprise party, and he’d like the surprise part to actually work. 

They end up at the arcade downtown, Jihoon smirking competitively when they play two-player games, both of them collecting tickets that they’ll cash in for a prize later. Soonyoung forces him into a game of DDR, making Jihoon sigh loudly. It’s not like Soonyoung is _good_ at DDR; he’s a dancer but being a dancer doesn’t necessarily equate to moving your feet on a gameboard. But Jihoon is _awful_ at DDR, all slow reflexes and quick temper and it makes Soonyoung double over with laughter every time Jihoon gets forced into it. They both end up failing the song, Jihoon from lack of skill and Soonyoung from cackling too hard to move, laying on the gamepad and choking on his own laughter. 

“Jerk!” Jihoon accuses but he’s laughing too, stepping off the metal gamepad and letting some confused onlookers use it instead. He pulls Soonyoung up and Soonyoung lets himself fall forward and continue laughing onto Jihoon’s shoulder. 

“You’re just _so bad_ ,” Soonyoung mutters, wiping his eyes and letting out a long breath. 

Jihoon blushes, looking amused around his glare, but doesn’t say anything. Soonyoung likes the look on his face, likes when Jihoon looks flustered, trying not to laugh.

“You’re a pretty good dancer, in real life. You’d think it would translate.” Soonyoung gives him a grin as an apology for the teasing, and Jihoon rolls his eyes.

“You’re such a kiss-ass.” 

Soonyoung shrugs as they walk away from the DDR machine. “No, really. You’re not a bad dancer.” Sometimes when Soonyoung is working on something in the studio, Jihoon will sit in the back of the practice room and do his own work, dutifully stepping up as Soonyoung asks if he can try to explain something, see how it looks with more than just him. Jihoon was always embarrassed, but he followed directions well and had some amount of rhythm underneath his hesitance.

Jihoon is still blushing a little, pink at the tops of his sharp cheekbones, and it makes him look younger, more boyish than he does usually. 

They trade in their tickets for a large stuffed Charmander that Jihoon picks out (earning a surprised glance from Soonyoung and a defensive shrug in return from Jihoon), and Soonyoung carries it under his arm as they walk back out into the daylight. It’s a nice day for being so late in the fall, the late afternoon sun shining down on them in their light jackets. They walk down to a coffee shop down the street, small and packed with mismatched colored tables. 

Jihoon orders for the both of them before Soonyoung has a chance to speak for himself, stepping up to the register and saying, “One medium americano and one iced vanilla latte with soy milk.” 

Soonyoung rolls his eyes and pushes in front of Jihoon, using the stuffed Charmander tucked under his arm to shove Jihoon out of the way. “You’re not paying, it’s your birthday.” 

“No it’s not,” Jihoon argues with a snort.

Soonyoung sighs impatiently. “It’s your fake birthday, let me buy your coffee!” 

Jihoon laughs, rolling his eyes, but he steps out of the way, and Soonyoung stands in front of the cashier, who’s raising an eyebrow at them. Soonyoung offers him a friendly grin and a ten-thousand won note, ignoring the dubious glance. 

They sit across from each other, sipping their drinks. Their table has three chairs, so Soonyoung puts Charmander in the empty one. Jihoon laughs softly at the action, and Soonyoung grins over at him.

“Charmander?”

“I like Charmander. I like it more than Hello Kitty, anyway,” Jihoon shrugs, referencing the other stuffed toy that they could have afforded with their tickets. 

“Harsh,” Soonyoung says, before looking contemplatively at the Charmander. “I liked playing Pokemon when I was a kid, but I was always the worst out of my friends. It required too much strategy.”

Jihoon laughs. “What strategy? All the strategy is in the tagline of the game. You just gotta catch ‘em all, Soonyoung.” 

Soonyoung takes a sip of his iced latte, thinking. “Hm, maybe not strategy. Maybe patience. I just liked collecting the cute ones.” 

“Of course,” Jihoon rolls his eyes. 

Soonyoung laughs across the table at him. “You must have been a nightmare. I bet you spent hours playing and never traded with your friends.” 

“It’s not fair to just _give away_ the fruit of my labor,” Jihoon says defensively. 

Soonyoung laughs again, stirring his drink. “Of course.” 

“Stop fighting, you’re going to upset Charmander,” Jihoon says with a grin, putting his hand on top of Charmander’s head like it’s their child. It makes Soonyoung laugh again, deep and genuine. 

Things between them have been delicate lately, precarious. It’s been a week since Soonyoung last woke up in Jihoon’s bed, and the few days that followed were full of cautious distance, just like the first few days after always are. They’ve been doing this long enough, often enough, that sometimes in these slightly awkward weeks, Soonyoung forgets how good it is to be with Jihoon. He’s funny and witty and unafraid to speak his mind, and for all his serious facade, he’s just a boy who likes playing arcade games and listening to music, and making dumb jokes at coffee shops. Jihoon intimidates people with his temperament, but in reality he’s charming, sometimes even sweet. 

It’s the kind of thing he wants to say out loud sometimes, but Jihoon is allergic to that kind of sentimentality. Still, he’s glad, glad to be sitting across from him as friends, as...whatever it is they are to each other. (And that’s a fear of both of theirs, he thinks: naming that vague, broad _whatever_. Things become real when you give them a name.) 

They pass the rest of the day a little aimlessly, walking around shops where Jihoon makes him try on absurd pieces of clothing, including a transparent pink mesh shirt and a hat with English swear words written all over it. Jihoon laughs loudly, covering his mouth with his hands (that are in turn covered by his too-long sleeves), and it’s endearing. It’s cute, even. Soonyoung always finds himself chasing the sound of Jihoon’s laughter, willing to make a complete fool of himself if it means Jihoon will smile at him. Junhui told him once that’s what being in love is like, but Soonyoung shakes the thought from his head. He doesn’t have time to think about what that means right now, when Jihoon is standing in front of him with his staccato laugh.

“Did you have a good fake birthday?” Soonyoung asks Jihoon as they climb up the stairs to Soonyoung’s apartment. The plan as Jihoon knows it is that Soonyoung is going to make him seaweed soup for dinner and they’re going to watch a movie, but Soonyoung is painfully aware of the number of people waiting in his living room to surprise them.

“Oh, it was definitely my best fake birthday ever,” Jihoon says with a smirk, his hand brushing against Soonyoung’s briefly. 

“Thank god,” Soonyoung breathes in exaggerated relief, making Jihoon laugh quietly. 

Jihoon is holding the Charmander in one of his hands like a kid rather than an almost-22 year old man. He looks down at the stairs when they step onto Soonyoung’s floor, and his hesitation makes Soonyoung pause as well, waiting for whatever Jihoon’s going to say with his mouth opening and closing like he’s trying to find the words.

“I miss doing stuff like this with you.”

“What do you mean?” Soonyoung asks quietly. 

“I like our friends and everything,” Jihoon starts, looking a little embarrassed, “but I like when it’s just us.” 

It feels a little like a punch to the stomach, and Soonyoung takes a moment to find his breath (which he didn’t expect to lose, really.) “I like it too.” _You like it too much,_ a voice accuses in his head, but he ignores it. He always ignores it. 

Jihoon smiles at him, still embarrassed but bright, happy. He _loves_ when Jihoon looks at him like that. 

They’re steps away from Soonyoung’s door, but Soonyoung has the sudden urge to forget the party, to walk back down the stairs and spend the night walking by Jihoon’s side, wherever he wants to go. But it’s stupid, and it’s fleeting, and anyway, he spent _weeks_ planning this party.

“Well, if you liked your fake birthday, you’re gonna love your real birthday,” Soonyoung jokes enigmatically, walking them toward the door and twisting the knob without reaching for his keys.

“Yeah? Why, what’re you —” Jihoon starts, amused, before the crowd inside bellows a deafening, “Surprise!”

Jihoon looks thoroughly surprised, eyes wide as he freezes in place before turning questioningly to Soonyoung.

“Happy birthday, Jihoonie,” Soonyoung says in a soft voice, a little nervous waiting for Jihoon’s proper reaction.

Before Soonyoung can say anything else, Jihoon is laughing; it sounds a little frantic and maybe a little embarrassed at all the eyes on him, but it’s still laughter. Inherently good, as far as reactions go. “Fuck. Thanks.” 

Soonyoung mutters a quick, “You’re welcome.” He doesn’t have time to get anything else out before Seokmin appears in front of them with lit candles on a cake and people start shoving drinks at Jihoon. He takes them willingly, downing two shots in a row, and Soonyoung grins widely. 

“You weren’t busy tomorrow, were you?” Jihoon asks Soonyoung with a laugh after he blows out the candles on his birthday cake (homemade by Seungcheol, and decorated with pink icing.) 

“Nope!” Soonyoung exclaims back after taking a shot of his own. “Not even at all!”

The apartment is fully decorated, no less than seven birthday banners scattered throughout the living room, balloons, streamers, the whole deal. Jihoon looks around appreciatively at it before turning and smiling at Soonyoung again. “I can’t believe you pulled this off.”

Soonyoung laughs. “Me either. I’ve been nervous all day.” 

“You fuckin’ sap,” Jihoon laughs again, taking another drink when someone offers it to him. 

The party is loud. Seokmin is in charge of the playlist and it’s all bass-heavy dance tracks, which of course leads to someone daring him to dance, which of course leads to him once again acting like an absolute idiot in front of Jihoon to hear him laugh. It’s familiar. It’s predictable. That doesn’t make Soonyoung enjoy it less, though.

Two hours into the party, after a few half-hearted party games and Wonwoo asking to borrow lube so he can get laid tonight ( _despite_ Soonyoung putting signs that say “NO FUCKING” on all of the closed doors of the apartment; he guesses they don’t apply to the owners of the room), he’s nearing extreme drunkenness as he tries to chat up one of the girls Yejin’s friend brought. 

“What was your name again? Mi-jung?” He slurs at her. He likes the freckle on her nose. 

“Mina,” she corrects him, sounding bored. 

“Right, Mina. You’re very pretty, Mina.” Soonyoung grins, trying to look friendly instead of lecherous. He doesn’t feel very lecherous. 

“That’s what my girlfriend tells me,” she says with a sharp grin.

“Ah,” Soonyoung mutters, holding his hands up. “Wrong tree. Say no more. You’re still pretty, though.” 

Another girl sidles up to Mina, looking dubious of Soonyoung. 

“I have only pure intentions,” Soonyoung defends himself, and the new girl snorts.

“Right.” 

“Kwon Soonyoung,” he introduces himself, because he’s drunk and this is his apartment and he feels like he should.

“Hirai Momo,” the girl says back. Her arm moves so that it’s around pretty, nose-freckle Mina’s waist and Soonyoung’s eyes catch the change.

“Shit, Mina and Momo? That’s adorable. Stay together _forever_ ,” he urges them loudly.

Mina laughs, leaning into Momo, and the easy affection makes a little, tiny pathetic part of him sad. They walk away, shaking their heads but laughing, and Soonyoung feels pleased at that. 

“Were you hitting on that girl?” A voice asks from behind him, teasing. 

“Slightly,” Soonyoung says with a sigh, turning around to face Jihoon, who looks amused.

“How’d that work out for you?”

“You know how it worked out,” Soonyoung says, self-deprecating. 

“You should know the kind of friends Yejin has,” Jihoon replies, shaking his head with a grin. 

“Just because someone leans one way doesn’t mean they can’t lean both,” Soonyoung shrugs. 

Jihoon laughs, stumbling into Soonyoung’s space by accident, but he stays there. “There’s a metaphor in there somewhere. The optimistic bisexual sees everyone as available.”

“And the pessimistic gay man sees everyone as unavailable,” Soonyoung laughs in reply, pointing accusingly at Jihoon. 

“That’s not why I don’t hit on people,” Jihoon snorts, taking another sip of his drink. He can’t tell how drunk Jihoon is, but the answer is probably greater than or equal to the amount of drunk Soonyoung is. 

“Then why don’t you?” Soonyoung asks, curious. They don’t talk about stuff like this much anymore, not that they ever talked about it much; Jihoon has never been one to talk about his love life in any sort of detail. They’re standing leaned against the wall, tucked away in a corner of the party, and it’s the first time Soonyoung’s seen Jihoon in an hour or so. 

Jihoon rolls his eyes, a bitter smile on his face. “Come on, who would be interested in me?” 

Soonyoung doesn’t reply to that, instead lifting his drink to his mouth and finishing it cleanly. 

The next couple hours pass in a bit of a blur; Seokmin enlists him for a game of King’s Cup at one point, which he fails miserably at; he successfully gets a girl’s phone number but he forgets to ask her name; Junhui and Minghao end up kissing on their sofa, and Jihoon forces them apart with a laugh. All in all, fun party. 

It’s nearing two a.m. when everyone starts clearing out, friends waving as they walk out the door. Soonyoung is happy, but he’s exhausted, some of the alcohol having left his system. He’s only comfortably drunk now, fun drunk instead of “oh shit” drunk, which is better. Seokmin and Seungcheol (accompanied by Jisoo and Jeonghan) are the only people really left, with Junhui and Minghao having left an hour ago with their hands nearly down each other’s pants. 

“Good party,” Seokmin grins at him, his eyes crinkling happily. 

“Hope so. It’s gonna require a lot of cleaning,” Soonyoung laughs.

“Yah, Seokminie, take the train with us so I know you get home okay,” Seungcheol calls, not unkindly, walking over with Jeonghan in tow. Jisoo is talking to Jihoon over by the kitchen, but he looks over at the noise and gives Jihoon a little wave. 

“I can manage to take a subway by myself, hyung,” Seokmin laughs, but Seungcheol crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Alright, that thing happened _one time_ , and —” 

The bickering continues, and Soonyoung rolls his eyes with a grin and walks over to Jihoon. “It’s officially your birthday now, you know.” 

“I do know,” Jihoon nods, grinning.

Soonyoung tilts his head curiously. “How drunk are you?”

Jihoon thinks. “Scale of one to ten, six.” 

“Shit, what’s ten?” Soonyoung asks with a laugh.

“Remember that time you threw up into someone’s pool and then started crying and kept yelling that you had ruined the ocean?” Jihoon asks. The memory sends them both into a fit of quiet laughter. “That’s ten.”

Jihoon leans into him, and Soonyoung can feel the huff of his laughter against the skin of his neck. For all that Jihoon avoids physical affection usually, he gets a little handsy when he’s drunk, always presses against him all pliant. His hand finds Soonyoung’s hip and grips it tightly as his laughter fades, and Soonyoung is keenly aware of Seokmin, Seungcheol, Jisoo and Jeonghan still standing on the other end of the room. But Jihoon clearly isn’t bothered, standing on tiptoes to mutter closer to Soonyoung’s ear, “I wanna stay here tonight.”

Soonyoung nods, heart pounding nervously because it’s such a gentle statement, unlike the way they usually shove each other laughing into bed. And they _never_ stay the night at Soonyoung’s, not when Jihoon doesn’t have any roommates. Maybe Jihoon is just too drunk to care, but they’ve been far drunker than this before; maybe this is just different. 

“Goodnight!” Seungcheol calls as he opens the door, Seokmin walking out with him and looking good-naturedly annoyed about it. 

“Night,” Soonyoung and Jihoon call back quietly.

“Happy birthday,” Jeonghan says with a knowing smirk as he leaves, and Soonyoung doesn’t have the nerve to smile back as Jihoon offers a weak, “Thanks.” 

It’s quiet in the apartment, just the two of them looking at each other, and Jihoon laughs before pulling Soonyoung by the wrist to his own bedroom. 

“I got you a birthday present,” Soonyoung mutters as Jihoon locks the door behind them, pressing himself back into Soonyoung. 

“I can’t deal with that right now,” Jihoon says with a little sigh, and Soonyoung laughs gently, bringing up a hand to rub across Jihoon’s back.

“You okay?” Soonyoung asks, pulling away from Jihoon to look down at his face, which is unreadable. He pushes Jihoon’s bangs back, the movement natural to his hand, and Jihoon leans up and kisses him. 

“Yeah,” Jihoon says breathily after he pulls away. “I’m good.” 

“Good,” Soonyoung breathes back before he presses down and kisses Jihoon again, hands wrapped around his slim waist, and Jihoon matches his energy. This is more their speed, hands pushing shirts up and off each others heads, clothes flying off easily as they stumble back onto Soonyoung’s bed. 

Jihoon looks up at him, spread naked across Soonyoung’s (probably dirty) sheets, and it’s vulnerable for both of them. Jihoon looks good like this, hair pushed out of his face, small frame uncovered so you can see the places that he has muscle and the places that are soft.

“What d’you want? It’s your birthday, after all,” Soonyoung laughs quietly and Jihoon grins up at him. 

“Want to fuck you,” Jihoon says simply, a hand reaching up to trail across Soonyoung’s stomach. 

“You’re gonna make me do all the work, aren’t you?” Soonyoung asks, his laugh cut off by a surprised noise when Jihoon runs his hand over Soonyoung’s dick, evidently not getting hard fast enough for Jihoon’s liking.

“It’s my _birthday_ , Soonyoungie,” Jihoon says with a smirk and a bit of a whine. 

“I’ll be expecting a great gift on my birthday, then,” Soonyoung smirks back, choosing not to comment on the affectionate nickname and moving so that he’s kneeling straddling Jihoon’s hips on the bed. He plants his hands on either side of Jihoon’s head and leans down, kissing him again. They’re drunk and sloppy but neither of them seem to mind, Jihoon running his hands up and down Soonyoung’s sides, moving to the outside of his thighs. 

“Where’s your lube?” Jihoon pulls away from their kiss to ask. 

Soonyoung lifts his head, scanning the room; if Wonwoo didn’t give it back, he’ll be pissed. 

“Oh,” Jihoon says, interrupting his thoughts and grabbing the bottle from the nightstand his head is near. “It’s right here.” 

It’s maybe a little weird that they’re the second ones using the same bottle of lube in one night, but Soonyoung shrugs the thought out of his head. He and Wonwoo have probably done weirder. 

“I’ll do the honors, if you want.” Jihoon says with a laugh, holding the bottle in his hand. His other hand is resting on Soonyoung’s hip, running gently over his skin.

Soonyoung snorts. “It’s the least you could do.” 

“Get on your back, then.”

Soonyoung follows orders, flipping over onto his back as Jihoon shifts, grounding himself with a hand pressed to Soonyoung’s chest. He hums, sounding happy before ducking in to kiss Soonyoung again. 

“Want me to suck your dick while I finger you?” Jihoon asks. He’s never been one to beat around the bush.

“Has anyone ever said no to that?” Soonyoung wonders aloud, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the smirk on Jihoon’s lips. 

“Nah, but I like seeing you freak out when I ask,” Jihoon laughs, kissing him again before moving down the bed.

“Asshole,” Soonyoung says, laughing breathily even when Jihoon takes his cock in his hand. 

One thing Soonyoung has learned about Jihoon in the past six months that hadn’t come up in the three years they were friends before then is that Jihoon is _good_ at giving head. Good enough to make Soonyoung cry once (although, as Jihoon pointed out that night, Soonyoung does cry at everything.) Still, it’s impressive, and more importantly it’s _great_ , making Soonyoung grab at the sheets desperately as Jihoon bobs up and down on his dick, the suction turning Soonyoung’s mind into a pile of mush.

Jihoon has the fingers of his right hand lubed up, two already fucking into Soonyoung while his left hand pushes his hips into the bed, preventing him from bucking upwards. Jihoon adds a third finger without warning and Soonyoung groans, low in his throat; he knows Jihoon is big, but it’s only been a week since they last fucked, and all this prep isn’t strictly necessary. Soonyoung thinks Jihoon likes doing this, pushing Soonyoung to the edge and then pulling him back before he can get any release. Asshole. Domineering asshole. 

“Come _on_ ,” Soonyoung whines, his voice growling in frustration. He looks down at where Jihoon is pressing teasing kisses to the side of his cock.

“Ask nicely,” Jihoon chides him with a smirk.

“ _Please_ ,” Soonyoung puts emphasis on the word with a glare down at Jihoon, “just fuck me already.” 

Jihoon laughs, mouthing one last kiss to the base of Soonyoung’s cock before pulling his fingers out and wiping his hand on Soonyoung’s sheets (which are definitely dirty now.) He moves up next to Soonyoung, kissing his cheek in a move that might be considered chaste if Soonyoung didn’t know it was only because neither of them like kissing after oral. 

“Condom?” Jihoon asks, lying on his back and brushing his own hair off his face again. 

Soonyoung nods, leaning across Jihoon’s body to rustle through the drawer on his nightstand. He pulls himself up, going back to his earlier position, straddled across Jihoon’s body on his knees, and opens the foil hastily. 

“You’re desperate tonight,” Jihoon teases him when he gets frustrated with the condom wrapper. 

“You are driving me crazy,” Soonyoung mutters as he finally gets the condom out of the foil.

“In a sex way or in the normal way?” Jihoon asks.

Soonyoung glares. “Both, which is really fucking annoying.” He sits back on his heels as he rolls the condom down Jihoon’s cock, wet with pre-come and untouched til now. Jihoon hisses, and it’s satisfying enough to make Soonyoung smirk. He takes extra time to spread lube down Jihoon’s length, stroking a few extra times just to see Jihoon squirm.

But he doesn’t waste much time before beginning the semi-awkward process of lining himself up, too turned on to have the energy to make fun of Jihoon, who’s obviously feeling a little desperate as well. Instead, he focuses on lowering himself down on Jihoon’s cock, and Jihoon makes a choked off noise as Soonyoung sinks lower, slowly, until he bottoms out. 

“Fuck,” Jihoon groans, dragging out the word in a low voice, and Soonyoung manages a chuckle. His fingers dig into Soonyoung’s hips and they both stay still, adjusting, before Soonyoung lifts himself back up slowly. Jihoon pulls at his hips, trying to force him back down, but Soonyoung shakes his head, shoving Jihoon’s hands off him. 

“Ask nicely,” Soonyoung repeats Jihoon’s earlier comment, and Jihoon laughs despite how out of it he sounds. 

“Please, Soonyoungie,” Jihoon rasps with a smirk, bringing his hands back up to rub over Soonyoung’s thighs. 

Soonyoung grinds back down, making both of them moan. He quickly loses his patience for teasing, as fun as it is, because it turns out he cares more about getting properly fucked, thighs straining with the effort of pulling himself up and down as Jihoon’s hand runs up and down his cock, too slowly.

“My thighs are gonna be sore tomorrow,” Soonyoung says with a wrecked laugh as he pulls himself up again, and one of Jihoon’s hand squeezes his thigh.

“You have strong thighs, though,” Jihoon says with a grin, rubbing at the muscles there. 

“I think you just have a thing for them,” Soonyoung jokes, remembering the night when Jihoon sucked hickeys down his legs.

Jihoon doesn’t say anything, and when Soonyoung looks down at him he’s blushing. “Ha,” Soonyoung manages weakly, rocking down on Jihoon again. “Caught you. Embarrassing.” 

“Shut up,” Jihoon spits out, thrusting his hips upward against Soonyoung and making him moan. 

“If you’re tired, we can change,” he offers a moment later, quieter and softer. Considerate. Soonyoung nods and pulls off, wincing a little at the sudden emptiness. 

If there’s one good thing about sleeping with your best friend (and there are at least a few), it’s that communication comes easy. They’re to-the-point, no words minced. “Get on your knees,” Jihoon says quietly, and it’s not pillow talk as much as it’s a friendly suggestion. 

Soonyoung complies, leaning down onto his elbows and knees and shooting Jihoon an exaggerated grin, making him grin back. There’s something inherently ridiculous about this position, and Soonyoung always starts out laughing. His laughter fades when Jihoon presses into him again, not bothering to go slow now that he’s the one in control of their pace. Soonyoung moans, reaching a hand down to stroke himself in time with Jihoon’s thrusts, and both of them start at a faster, more reckless pace, just wanting to get off. It’s good and it’s fast and it’s overwhelming, pressure building dangerously in Soonyoung’s stomach. 

“You gonna come soon?” Soonyoung turns back to ask Jihoon, who looks like he’s losing his mind as he thrusts into Soonyoung.

“Yeah, if you’d shut up,” Jihoon grunts.

Soonyoung closes his eyes, biting his lip at the feeling of Jihoon. “I’m trying to let you come first, birthday boy.”

Jihoon laughs weakly. “Just come if you’re gonna come, jesus.” 

“Fair enough,” Soonyoung mutters, stroking himself in his own hand quickly and roughly. He’s so close to falling apart at the seams at the feeling of all of it, and he’s coming within a minute. He moans low, back arching and face falling into his pillow as Jihoon keeps fucking him, and it all feels like too much in the best possible way. It’s the hardest he’s come in a while, and he mentally thanks Jihoon for being so good at hitting his prostate and his own well-practiced right hand as he breathes heavy, waiting for Jihoon to follow suit. 

It doesn’t take long until he hears Jihoon choke on a moan behind him, hips bucking out of his control as he leans into his orgasm (metaphorically) and on top of Soonyoung (literally.) His hips keep moving for a minute, but eventually he stills, sighing heavily into the back of Soonyoung’s neck. 

Jihoon always goes quiet after sex, uncharacteristically peaceful, and tonight isn’t any different. He pulls out of Soonyoung, tossing away the condom easily, and Soonyoung rolls over onto his back to look at him. 

They’re both sweaty and kind of gross, but Soonyoung doesn’t care much, instead finding himself drawn to the way Jihoon’s face looks so nice when it’s flushed, how good he looks with his hair sweaty and pushed back from his forehead, how much he wants to kiss him. 

It’s a dangerous feeling, he knows. It’s dangerous that he wants to get used to this. He’s still a little drunk but not drunk enough to brush this off, to make excuses for his pounding heart.

“Jihoon,” he says before he can stop himself, and Jihoon sits up from where he was leaned over, glancing at his phone. 

“Yeah?” Jihoon asks, face open and soft. 

Soonyoung swallows loudly. “What are we doing?” 

Jihoon stares at him, blank and maybe a little surprised. “What?”

“What are we...what _is_ this?” Soonyoung asks again, heart pounding in his throat as Jihoon looks him over. 

Jihoon stays quiet for a long time. “I don’t know. It’s — it’s us. Right?”

“How drunk are you right now?” Soonyoung asks.

Jihoon visibly gulps. “Not very.”

“Yeah. Me either.” 

They’re both quiet.

“So if we’re not fucking because we’re drunk, then why are we fucking?” Soonyoung asks. He knows he’s asking too many questions, he knows Jihoon’s gonna snap at him soon, but he can’t help it.

“What answer do you want to hear?” Jihoon asks him back with a cold look. 

“I don’t fucking know, Jihoon,” Soonyoung sighs. “I keep thinking about that fight we had last week. You asked me if this is what friends do.” 

Jihoon nods, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah. I did ask that.” 

They’re sitting across from each other naked, and the circumstances of the conversation should make it seem less intimidating, but they don’t. It’s still heart-poundingly tense, the two of them staring at each other but unwilling to show any of their emotions on their faces. 

“Well, I don’t know the answer.” 

Jihoon sets his jaw, looking down at the bed. “I don’t either. Why do you think we keep doing this?” He sounds honestly curious, no heat in his voice.

Soonyoung sighs, closes his eyes as he says, “I think you’re lonely, Jihoon.” 

There’s a beat of silence and Soonyoung looks up to see Jihoon glaring at him, dead serious and angry. “Fuck you.” 

Soonyoung sighs again, trying to double back. “I don’t mean it as an insult, or —” 

“No, fuck you. What, you’re just pity fucking me because you feel bad? Bullshit,” Jihoon spits at him, standing up. “Don’t think I don’t see the way you look at me, Soonyoung.” 

It’s a punch to the gut, and Jihoon knows it. Soonyoung nods with a bitter smile. “Ah, so you’re pity fucking _me_ , then?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Fucked up Jihoon and lovesick Soonyoung. Quite a fucking pair,” Jihoon snorts angrily, storming to the other side of the room and pulling on his jeans without bothering to put underwear on first.

“Where are you going?” Soonyoung asks, feeling exhausted. It’s nearly four in the morning, and the weight of the day is settling into him.

“I need a cigarette,” Jihoon mutters, taking one of Soonyoung’s hoodies and throwing it on over his head. 

“Just smoke in here.”

Jihoon, despite everything, laughs. “So this is what it takes to be able to smoke inside? Amazing.” But he stays, digging his pack of cigarettes and lighter out of his pocket and lighting one with shaking hands. 

They’re quiet, Soonyoung rubbing his face in his hands. 

“You go around flirting with everything that moves, then you come home with me, and _I’m_ the lonely one,” Jihoon mutters bitterly. 

Soonyoung supposes he deserves that one, but he sighs anyway. “It’s not a bad thing to be lonely, Ji. It’s not a bad thing to need people.” 

Jihoon shoots him a withering glare, blowing smoke from his mouth. “Do me a favor and don’t pretend like you’re my therapist right now.” 

“Yeah, well, don’t call me lovesick like it’s an insult,” Soonyoung says bitterly. “Just because you’re too fucking chicken to ever feel anything.” 

Jihoon gives him another glare. “Christ, that’s mean.” 

“Yeah, well, you were mean first,” Soonyoung grumbles. 

Jihoon laughs humorlessly. “How can you see this ever working? Listen to us.” 

Soonyoung is quiet for a minute before he says, “You know we’re good together.” He feels vulnerable, exposed, like Jihoon can see his entire idiot heart, and it’s not pleasant. 

Jihoon sighs. “Soonyoung, I’m not good with anyone.” 

Soonyoung snorts, looking down at the bed. “That’s such a load of shit. You’ve just never tried.” 

They’re both quiet again, the sound of Jihoon’s cigarette burning on his inhales the only sound in the room. 

“Can you just like, tell me how you’re feeling right now?” Soonyoung asks, pulling his knees up to his chest as he looks over at Jihoon. 

Jihoon pauses, taking another drag of his cigarette before turning to Soonyoung. The sweater he threw on is big on him, making him look even smaller than he is. “Scared, mostly.” 

“Me too,” Soonyoung says. 

“Sorry, I...Sorry. For everything I said,” Jihoon mutters.

“Me too,” Soonyoung says again. He stands up and pulls on a pair of underwear and a hoodie before sitting back down on his bed, next to Jihoon but not looking at him. 

“You’re right. I have feelings for you.” It’s a weighty admission, and Soonyoung can’t bear to glance at Jihoon as he says it.

“I have feelings for you too,” Jihoon says softly, putting his hand on top of Soonyoung’s. “I don’t — I don’t know how to tell. You may have had a point, about me being scared to feel things.” 

“Mm, well. Tell me your symptoms. I’ll try to diagnose you,” Soonyoung says with a quiet laugh. 

“This is embarrassing,” Jihoon mumbles.

“Do it anyway,” Soonyoung tells him. 

“I’m attracted to you, obviously. I sleep better when we’re in the same bed. You’re the only person who knows — well, a lot of things about me. You’re the only person I trust like that,” Jihoon says, voice unsure. “I like being around you. You make me feel comfortable.” 

It makes Soonyoung’s heart ache, the whole thing, and he doesn’t know how to respond. He laces their fingers together and rests his chin on the top of his knee, pulled tight to his chest.

“I’m so tired,” Jihoon laughs, keeping their fingers laced together but laying back against the bed, his burned out cigarette still hanging from his fingers. 

“How do you want to leave this, Jihoon?” Soonyoung asks him cautiously. 

“I don’t know how to be a boyfriend, Soonyoung. I really don’t. I’ve never done it before, I’ve never — it makes me nervous, the idea of it,” Jihoon says. Soonyoung waits for him to get to his point. “But you’re you.” 

“I am, yes,” Soonyoung says with a quiet laugh.

Jihoon looks at him, serious. “You’re important to me.” He pauses after that, quiet, before he furrows his eyebrows, looking determined. “What if we tried to have something real?” 

Soonyoung looks at him. “I think we could do it.” 

Jihoon nods, running his thumb over the top of Soonyoung’s hand where they’re still clasped together. He sits up and leans in close to Soonyoung, pressing their lips together softly. 

“It would be nice, getting to kiss you more,” Jihoon breathes, a small grin on his face. 

Soonyoung kisses him again, deeper, slower. “I only want this if you do,” he says, looking at Jihoon with a serious expression.

“I know.” 

They look at each other, and Soonyoung feels lost, trying to search Jihoon’s expression.

“Maybe it’ll be a disaster, but,” Jihoon pauses and then nods, like he’s assuring them both, “I want to try.” 

“Maybe it won’t be a disaster,” Soonyoung says softly. “Maybe you’ll fall in love with me.” 

Jihoon laughs at him. “I hate to tell you this, Soonyoung, but being in love doesn’t mean you can’t be a disaster.” 

“We’ll see, I guess,” Soonyoung says lightly. 

Jihoon laughs, leaning his head into the crook of Soonyoung’s neck. “Can we go to sleep?” 

Soonyoung nods, bringing up a hand to run through Jihoon’s hair. “It’s been kind of a weird start to your birthday, I guess.”

Jihoon laughs again, standing up to take his jeans off again and pull on his boxers instead. “Yeah. Not terrible, though, all in all.” 

“Sorry I was mean,” Soonyoung apologizes again, moving up his bed and laying down against his pillows. 

Jihoon turns the light off, crawling in bed next to Soonyoung, finding his hand and holding it again. “It’s okay. I was mean first.” 

Soonyoung laughs, and he shifts himself closer to Jihoon, the heat of his body comforting. Neither of them say anything else, but Jihoon keeps their hands pressed together, fingers slotted neatly. This is what they do. They fight, they get carried away, they apologize, and they make up. It’s what they’ve always done, his stubbornness always colliding with Jihoon’s quick temper and sharp tongue until they’re both tired and sorry. They keep up with each other well, they always have. But this time it’s different, their bodies close together, their fingers intertwined. It’s more vulnerable, the aftermath more tender than usual.

“So what, are you my boyfriend now?” Jihoon asks him quietly with a chuckle, squeezing his hand.

“I’ll be anything you want me to be, Jihoon,” Soonyoung says back. It’s a joke, but it’s rooted in the truth, which should maybe scare him a little more than it does. 

“Aigo, don’t get so dramatic,” Jihoon scolds him, breathing out a laugh, and Soonyoung is surprised into his own laughter.

“I’m a good boyfriend,” Soonyoung says conversationally.

“Mm,” Jihoon mutters back, sleepy. “I guess I’ll find out.” 

“I guess so,” Soonyoung says back with a grin. He squeezes Jihoon’s hand and Jihoon chuckles again, the last sound either of them make before they drift off to sleep.

**++ ++ ++**

Jihoon wakes up slowly in the morning, warm and comfortable in his sleeping position. There’s an arm slung over his waist, a leg between his own, and Soonyoung’s breathing sounds close to his ear.

It’s interesting, waking up next to someone and not feeling the immediate need to separate himself out of embarrassment or annoyance. A new feeling, but not a bad one. He listens to the slow rhythm of Soonyoung’s breathing until a shrill ringing startles them both, Jihoon leaning over the side of the bed and grabbing for his phone where it’s laying on the ground next to his jeans. 

“Shit,” he mutters, barely managing to accept the call before it hits his voicemail. “Hello?” 

Soonyoung stirs next to him, looking confused. 

“Jihoon,” his mother’s familiar voice says from the other end, “happy birthday, son.” 

“Thanks, eomma,” he mutters, laying back down and moving his arm so Soonyoung can lay his head on Jihoon’s chest. 

“Did I wake you up? It’s already ten, Jihoon,” his mother scolds, and Jihoon grins.

“No, no, I was awake,” he lies easily. He runs his hands through Soonyoung’s hair while he talks, the affection easy for him when he’s still this sleepy. 

“It’s hard being away from you on your birthday. I wish I could make you seaweed soup,” His mother sighs, and it pulls at Jihoon’s heartstrings. They aren’t particularly close, but he does love his parents. 

“Don’t worry, Soonyoung will make me seaweed soup,” Jihoon says, and Soonyoung grins up at him, nodding. 

“Oh, that’s nice of him. He’s a nice boy.”

“Thank you, eomeonim,” Soonyoung mutters sleepily, burying his head in Jihoon’s neck.

Jihoon knees him, and Soonyoung swears. His mother pauses on the other end. “Tell him I say hello,” she says, not letting on if she has suspicion of anything less than family friendly happening. No doubt she does; she’s not stupid, but she is polite. His parents are old, but they try their best, and he appreciates it. 

“Oh, your father’s here,” his mother mutters before there’s static, the phone getting passed to new hands.

“Happy birthday, Jihoon-ah,” his father says simply without a greeting.

“Thank you, appa,” Jihoon replies. Soonyoung snickers at his tone (it always gets more serious when he talks to his dad), but Jihoon ignores him. 

They chat for a few minutes, casual smalltalk, and Jihoon is glad to hear their voices even if he’s tired. Soonyoung strokes his hip absentmindedly, and Jihoon feels warm, the kind you feel after someone puts a blanket on you even though you didn’t realize you were cold. It’s nice. He’s trying not to overthink it. 

“My mom thinks we’re fucking now,” Jihoon sighs when he hangs up, blindly setting his phone down on Soonyoung’s nightstand. 

Soonyoung breathes a laugh. “Well, she’s not wrong.” 

Jihoon pauses, considering that. “Yeah. Guess not.” 

He closes his eyes, breathing deep and slow, Soonyoung’s hand still running over his warm skin. It doesn’t feel sexual, just comforting, and Jihoon likes it, the repetitive motion. He doesn’t like people touching him much, it makes him feel uncomfortably like the center of attention, but he always found himself leaning into Soonyoung’s careful touch, and this morning is no different.

++

Jihoon sighs as he stands in front of Soonyoung’s bathroom counter, looking at the toothbrush holder.

“Mine’s the red one,” Soonyoung told him when he complained that he wanted to brush his teeth. 

Jihoon balked at the statement, shooting Soonyoung a disgusted look. 

“You literally had my dick in your mouth last night, but this crosses the line?” Soonyoung asked, raising his eyebrows. 

“I don’t know where your mouth has been,” Jihoon muttered, crossing his arms. 

“On your dick,” Soonyoung shot back. He had a point.

So Jihoon gave in, his desire for better breath and clean teeth overwhelming his disgust at the situation. And here he is, sighing, unable to pick up the toothbrush. He left the bathroom door open, and the rest of the apartment is quiet (though it hadn’t been earlier, when moans kept floating down the hallway from Wonwoo’s room. “That kid is loud,” Soonyoung grumbled, putting a pillow over his ears. “And it’s the _morning_ ,” Jihoon said back, annoyed. “Who has the energy?”), so he’s startled when another person walks into the room.

It’s Wonwoo’s boy, two full heads taller than Jihoon and looking unsurprised to see him. 

“Oh. Hi. It’s your birthday, right? Happy birthday,” he says with a grin and a little wave. 

“Thanks,” Jihoon says slowly, eyeing him. He’s obviously wearing Wonwoo’s clothes, since the t-shirt is too tight across his broad shoulders and chest, and he looks happy. _I would be happy too if I came that early in the morning_ , Jihoon thinks to himself.

Jihoon wonders for a moment if one of them is going to leave, since this is a bathroom and is typically not a public space, but Mingyu stands in front of the counter and grabs the blue toothbrush, seemingly unconcerned.

He sighs to himself again before following suit, reaching for Soonyoung’s toothbrush, resigned. This is his life now. Standing in Soonyoung’s bathroom next to Wonwoo’s last lay and bonding over a lack of boundaries. 

He spits toothpaste into the sink and looks at the kid, who’s fixing his hair with one hand while he brushes. “Mingyu, right?” 

He nods, giving a thumbs-up as he spits out his toothpaste and runs water over the toothbrush. 

“I feel like we’ll be meeting like this again, Mingyu,” Jihoon says with a grimace. Mingyu just laughs. 

Soonyoung is still laying in bed when Jihoon comes back, spread across the mattress haphazardly and staring at his phone. 

“You’re still living, I see,” Soonyoung says, and Jihoon rolls his eyes.

He sits himself back down on Soonyoung’s bed, shrugging his hands into the sleeves of Soonyoung’s oversized sweatshirt. “But at what cost, Soonyoung.” 

“Your dignity, I guess,” Soonyoung shrugs, rolling over so that he’s laying with his head in Jihoon’s lap, looking up at him with a grin. “Is it adding insult to injury if I kiss you?” 

“Yes,” Jihoon grumbles. “Do it anyway, though.” 

And Soonyoung does, lifts himself up to press a soft kiss to Jihoon’s lips. It’s nice. He’s only eight hours into this shift in their relationship, but he likes it so far. It doesn’t feel too different except they kiss more, and Jihoon smiles afterward instead of sighing, which is a nice change. 

“Oh,” Soonyoung mutters as he pulls away. “I still have to give you your birthday present.”

He swings his feet off the bed, walking toward his closet, and Jihoon sticks a foot out to trip him on the way. It works, Soonyoung falling ungracefully, and Jihoon laughing loudly. 

“Asshole,” Soonyoung accuses through a laugh from his spot on the floor, pulling Jihoon’s foot hard enough that he slides off the bed and onto the ground on his ass. Jihoon lets out an embarrassing squawk, and he moves to roll on top of Soonyoung, pinning his wrists to the floor. Soonyoung laughs up at him, squirming under his grip before he finally flips them over, moving one of his hands to tickle at Jihoon’s side.

“Fuck you!” Jihoon yells, ducking out from under him through breathless laughter. 

“You’re so ungrateful,” Soonyoung says, laughing as he reaches over to punch Jihoon. “I was going to get you a _gift_.”

“I saw an opportunity, I decided to take it,” Jihoon defends himself, grabbing Soonyoung’s weak fist in his hand. Soonyoung rolls over on top of him, not much fight left in him, and he leans up from his awkward position splayed across Jihoon’s body to kiss his jawline. 

“You’re so clingy,” Jihoon laughs, but he runs his hand through Soonyoung’s hair as he says it. 

“Can you stop injuring and insulting me and let me give you a fucking present?” Soonyoung asks, pushing himself up and standing. 

“I guess so,” Jihoon says with a grin and a sigh. Soonyoung throws the box across the room, landing near Jihoon’s head.

“Alright, rude,” Jihoon says, sitting up and grabbing for the box. Soonyoung just laughs, walking back over and sitting on his bed in front of Jihoon’s spot on the floor. 

Jihoon tears through the patterned paper easily, taking the bow off and offering it to Soonyoung, who puts it on top of his head. The box is light, and when he opens it, there’s a notebook sitting in the bottom,tissue paper that used to be wrapped around it askew.  
Jihoon looks at it and grins to himself.

“Sorry, it’s pretty small,” Soonyoung says, sounding embarrassed.

Jihoon shakes his head. “No, thanks.” He saw it when they were in a bookstore across town months ago and it was a little too expensive for him to justify the purchase. It has the kind of paper he likes best and is bound in soft grey leather with a little folder in the back. “Thank you.” 

He’s hit with a wave of affection for Soonyoung, who always pretends to be brash but who can’t escape his own kindness. Soonyoung is good, like in his soul or whatever, and it’s the kind of goodness you can’t fake. “Thank you,” he repeats again, looking up with a grin at Soonyoung, who looks shy and a little surprised at the emotion in Jihoon’s voice. 

“You’re welcome,” he says quietly. 

Jihoon stands and walks over to Soonyoung, pulling him up by the wrist until he’s standing and then pulling them flush together as he stands on his toes and wraps his arms around the back of Soonyoung’s neck to kiss him. They’re both blushing when he pulls away and plants his feet flat on the ground, pink faces still close to each other. 

Neither of them say anything for a moment, and then Soonyoung laughs. “You can’t be so impressed by me, Jihoon, it’ll make me lazy.” 

“I don’t think I have ever been impressed by you,” Jihoon says, rolling his eyes with a grin. It’s a lie, but that’s okay. 

“Yeah,” Soonyoung says, obviously disbelieving, and Jihoon rolls his eyes again.

“C’mon, jerk. You owe me soup,” Jihoon mutters, looking away from Soonyoung so he won’t see the grin on Jihoon’s face and pulling him by the wrist to the kitchen.

++

**Jihoon:** uhh ok announcement  
 **Junhui:** we never use this group chat what’s going on  
 **Seokmin:** yeah I thought after that time jihoon woke up with 1500 notifications he banned it  
 **Jihoon:** i did but this is easiest so everyone be quiet  
 **Minghao:** announcement??  
 **Seungcheol:** i’m at work can u guys knock it off  
 **Jihoon:** i told everyone to be quiet but they didn’t listen  
 **Seokmin:** where’s soonyoung  
 **Wonwoo:** don’t worry about it  
 **Minghao:** WHAT’S THE ANNOUNCEMENT  
 **Seungcheol:** can everyone pls shut up so jihoon can spit it out  
 **Jihoon:** first of all i want to say that any reaction to this is unnecessary and stupid  
 **Seokmin:** sounds like we’re all gonna react to it  
 **Jihoon:** oh my god shut up.  
 **Jihoon:** me and soonyoung are dating  
 **Soonyoung:** ;)  
 **Jihoon:** no  
 **Seungcheol:** FINALLY!!  
 **Seokmin:** wonwoo you owe me a drink  
 **Jihoon:** what  
 **Junhui:** we’ve been betting on this for months  
 **Jihoon:** i fucking hate you guys  
 **Minghao:** no you don’t!! :)  
 **Seokmin:** this is the quietest soonyoung has ever been  
 **Wonwoo:** jihoon took his phone away  
 **Junhui:** not surprising  
 **Seungcheol:** I’m so happy  
 **Minghao:** seungcheol don’t cry  
 **Jihoon:** ok i’m deleting this group message from my phone now bye  
 **Seokmin:** who wants to take bets on their sex life  
 **Jihoon:** seokmin  
 **Seokmin:** JUST KIDDING HYUNG :)  
 **Junhui:** he wasn’t kidding  
 **Seungcheol:** the ban on this group chat is reinstated

++

Jihoon learns, over a handful of months, that Soonyoung is right: he is a good boyfriend. All his usual energy but something softer underneath it. Jihoon always knew that Soonyoung liked to play his role as a hyung to their younger friends, liked to take care of people, and Soonyoung took care of him more than anyone else even when they were friends. It’s different now though, there’s a tenderness underneath, an unembarrassed concern when Soonyoung asks if he’s eaten dinner yet or how much sleep he’s getting.

He doesn’t know if he’s good at this or not, at dating, but Soonyoung seems to like him, and he takes that as a good sign. Dating, as it turns out, is not that difficult when the person you’re dating your best friend. It doesn’t feel that different, if Jihoon’s honest, and he doesn’t know what that says about their friendship. He’s not Seungcheol, he doesn’t feel comfortable with the idea of romance, of love, but he feels comfortable with Soonyoung.

Jihoon writes a lot of things down. One of his first therapists once told him that writing down things he feels, good or bad, could help him process them better, and he found that it helped for writing songs, too. He always carries a notebook in his bag and they’re his most disorganized belongings, scribbles of half-lines and chord progressions and little notes with dates next to them. His most recent notebook (not the one Soonyoung got him for his birthday — he still had to finish up his last one first) was full of embarrassing notes-to-self, things he jotted down to remember them or just to jot them down. Things like “S spent two full minutes trying to get a baby to smile in the grocery store today (Dec 2),” “What is it about early mornings that feel magic? (Feb 19),” and “My apartment smells like him in a good way (March 11)”.

Today (April 26), Jihoon glances past those little dated notes in search for something his professor said that he made a point to write down, because he knew he’d need it later. Here he is, needing it later. He has an exam in two days, it’s two in the morning on a Tuesday, and Jihoon is feeling a little stressed, in general. 

In his concentration, flipping pages while swearing under his breath, he must miss the sound of feet walking down the hallway of Soonyoung’s apartment. It’s a surprise when he hears a soft, “Jihoon-ah,” from behind him.

He jumps at the noise, turning around with a startled expression to find a sleepy-looking Soonyoung, laughing at Jihoon’s reaction.

“Sorry,” Soonyoung yawns, padding over to where Jihoon’s sitting on the floor in the living room, books and computer open on Soonyoung’s coffee table in front of him. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“S’okay,” Jihoon mutters, turning back to his work.

“You said you were gonna come sleep like...two hours ago,” Soonyoung points out, glancing at the clock. “I fell asleep.”

Jihoon gives a little sigh and a shrug. “I wanted to finish up.” 

Soonyoung gives a soft, “Mm.” He’s in an overlarge t-shirt and boxers with polka-dots on them and he rubs his eyes sleepily as he comes and sits down beside Jihoon, resting his head on Jihoon’s shoulder.

“How’s it going?” Soonyoung asks him after a moment, glancing around at Jihoon’s spread out belongings and his face, which must look worn.

Jihoon sighs. “I should have started studying earlier. There’s a lot of stuff on this test.” 

Soonyoung runs a hand over Jihoon’s leg. “You’ll be fine. You work harder than anyone else in that class.” 

Jihoon nods, because he doesn’t have the energy to argue with Soonyoung’s reassurance. 

“Don’t you have class in the morning?” Soonyoung asks him, hand moving to rub at Jihoon’s back instead, comforting. 

“Not til nine,” Jihoon says quietly, finally giving up his search through his notebook. There’s a pause before he sighs again and mutters, “I wish I had a fucking cigarette.” 

“Aish,” Soonyoung mutters with a chuckle, hand still rubbing Jihoon’s back. It feels nice, and there’s a part of Jihoon that’s annoyed that Soonyoung knows he likes it. “You hungry?”

Jihoon considers saying no, but there’s something in Soonyoung’s voice that makes him feel guilty for lying. Also annoying. “Yeah.” 

“Mm,” Soonyoung mutters again before pressing a soft kiss to the side of Jihoon’s neck closest to Soonyoung’s face and standing up, walking off toward the kitchen. 

“Go back to sleep, Soonyoung,” Jihoon pleads quietly, watching him walk over to the fridge.

Soonyoung waves a hand at him, dismissive. “Shut up and go back to work.” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes in frustration but he does what he’s told, turning back to his computer and reading through his notes from class. He hears buttons being pressed on the microwave and soon enough Soonyoung comes back, a bowl of reheated leftover kimchi jjigae in his hands. It smells good enough to make Jihoon emotional (and his lack of sleep and the fact that he hasn’t eaten in eight hours isn’t helping much either.) 

Soonyoung holds the bowl out to Jihoon, small grin on his face, and Jihoon’s mouth (outside the control of his brain) mumbles, like an involuntary response, “Jesus, I love you.” 

They’re both still for a moment, Jihoon’s cheeks pinking at the sound of his own words. 

“That sure is the first time you’ve said that,” Soonyoung says, sounding surprised, the bowl of stew still in his hands.

“Yep,” Jihoon nods, embarrassed. 

They’re quiet until they accidentally make eye contact and both laugh awkwardly. “Love you too, Jihoonie,” Soonyoung says with a grin that’s only a little mocking. 

Jihoon takes the stew and busies himself with eating it. He can feel Soonyoung watching him but he pretends he can’t. They sit in a comfortable kind of quiet in the low light from a nearby lamp, Jihoon feeling warm from the food and from affection. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

“Come to sleep, jagiya,” Soonyoung says quietly when he finishes, resting a hand on Jihoon’s knee.

Jihoon snorts, blushing again. “It’s so embarrassing when you call me that.” 

Soonyoung smirks at him. “Ah, but I thought you loved me.” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes but he doesn’t say anything else, closing his computer and shoving his books into a pile next to his bag. He follows behind Soonyoung to his bedroom, dark except for the lamp on his desk, and rifles through Soonyoung’s drawers until he finds some of his own sleep clothes, transplanted here months ago. 

“I should have gone home tonight,” Jihoon says quietly with a thoughtful sigh.

“You should just live here,” Soonyoung offers, already back in his bed with his voice muffled by a pillow.

Jihoon laughs. “Slow down, Soonyoung.”

“Marry me,” Soonyoung responds in turn, making Jihoon laugh harder.

“You wish,” Jihoon mutters through his laughter, turning the lamp out and leaving them in darkness.

Soonyoung snorts. “I really don’t.”

Jihoon climbs in bed next to Soonyoung, and Soonyoung hisses when Jihoon’s cold feet run against his shins. They’re quiet, resituating themselves to be comfortable, which in Soonyoung’s case means his arm is slung heavily over Jihoon’s middle, like always.

“Really, though. You hate living alone,” Soonyoung says after a minute, turning his head in Jihoon’s direction.

“I don’t _hate_ it,” Jihoon says defensively. 

“You do too.” 

“I also hate sharing a bathroom with you and Wonwoo,” Jihoon mumbles, kicking Soonyoung’s shin.

“We’re clean!” 

“No, Wonwoo’s clean. You’re gross.”

Soonyoung kicks him back and Jihoon laughs softly.

“Think about it,” Soonyoung says, his hand squeezing Jihoon’s side.

Jihoon leans into Soonyoung’s body, nodding even though Soonyoung can’t see. “I will.”

He falls asleep thinking about it, the heat of Soonyoung warming his cold hands and feet and the idea of forever seeming much less frightening than it usually does.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i'm kind of attached to this verse so maybe let me know if there are other ships in it that you want me to pay attention to (jihancheol, verkwan, junhao)??? idk! again thanks so much for reading :)


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